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There was something markedly and deliberately liberal-minded in his manner in all their encounters. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. ” Lucy said. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. "Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him.

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